A question of dominance

The male scans you head to toe, nostrils flaring as he takes in the scent of your demonic pheromones. He stares for a moment before his jowls pull back into an uncanny semblance of a grin. He lets out a raucous, barking laugh.

“An alpha female?” He sneers, “Just seconds ago you were prey, impaled on my cock! I don’t know how you’re able to form words right now; perhaps I was too gentle. I said, submit! On your knees! Wrap that noisy snout around my cock and lick it clean!”

You feel a twinge of fear, but it’s a distant thing, a sensation from a former life. You bend your knees, watching through your peripheral vision as his eyes widen in expectation.

You grin back and laugh derisively, standing back up. “That little thing? You’ve been running around all night creating sexually frustrated hellhounds. Cerberus didn’t have the heart to tell you. Sorry I’m the one to break it to you.”

The alpha male’s eyes narrow, a yellowish light burning from inside. “I see. Cerberus sent you to test me? Very well, ‘alpha.’ This pack can have but one leader. You know what that means.”

You do, some instinct within you responding. The simplest solution would be a fight to the ****. You feel strong, but you’ve had less time in this body than he has. Another possibility would be to establish sexual dominance. The loser would lose alpha status and become a mindless thrall to the victor.

Another part of you, perhaps what remains of the human woman inside you, wonders if there might be a more mutually beneficial solution?